


What Did You Do?

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Clueless Jon, Explicit Language, F/M, Frosty Sansa, Horny Jon, Jon Snow knows nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Jon's in the doghouse with his wife, Sansa, and isn't sure why but is desperate to fix things.Prompted by Lady_Firefly's request for a remorseful Jon trying to get back in Sansa's good graces and getting the silent treatment.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Firefly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Firefly/gifts).



> It's supposed to be fun. No great commentary on marriage here (lol)...but I could totally see myself getting pissed over something and my poor husband being equally clueless.

_“Wow, um…what did you do?” Sam had asked on the boat dock with a mixture of shock and terror._

_He had stood there momentarily stunned and more than a bit frightened himself. The tail end of her long braid had smacked him across the face she had spun so quickly on her heel to twirl around to walk away from him. Ten-year-old Sansa Stark had stalked determinedly away with her fists clenched and her eyes hard yet full of tears._

_“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Jon had answered as he tried to ignore the pricking pain in his chest that morning in late June._

He had been thirteen then. She wasn’t his favorite Stark back then…not by a long shot. And he wasn’t her favorite…well, anything really. But they’d always tolerated each other well enough in the years since he had become best friends with her older brother, Robb. That morning though, Sansa’s anger had been a frightening thing to behold. She had not spoken to him for two weeks after that morning…two _long_ weeks…which had been awkward as hell considering he was spending the summer with the Starks at their lake house. It’s kind of obvious when someone goes out of their way _not_ to speak to you in a house full of other people who they are interacting with naturally enough. At first, he shrugged it off as though he didn’t care if she paid any attention to him…or acknowledged his existence…or hated his guts or not. But as the time went by, that pricking pain in his chest increased and he suspected he had done something to cause her pain which he didn’t want to do. Unfortunately, he was completely clueless as to what that might have been.

Her father had finally been the one to broker peace between them after too many meals spent with her glaring at him and then acting as though he wasn’t there and him looking about uncomfortably, trying to pretend her wrath was not directed at him. It turned out he had hurt her feelings, rather badly. One night a group of the older kids from the small lakeside community had gotten together down by the Stark’s pool house and the kissing games began. He had kissed one of the girls in their group when he was dared to by Robb but, when Theon had dared Jon to kiss Sansa, he’d taken one look at the pissed expression on Robb’s face and shouted, ‘No way!’ She was younger than any of the other kids there and had been lurking at the fringe of the group but had disappeared back up to the house immediately after Theon’s dare and Jon’s response. Jon had told himself then that she was probably afraid someone else would be dared to kiss her and she’d decided to run for it in order to avoid such a thing.

The next morning when he and Sam had been getting ready to take Jon’s little skiff out for a bit of fishing was when she had marched up to them on the dock and asked him if he had anything to say to her. He’d said ‘no’ with a shrug and the two week hate-a-thon had begun.

Ned Stark had tried hard not to laugh at the two of them when he made them sit down and finally got Sansa to admit _why_ she hated Jon Snow and wanted him to leave the lake house. And, Jon had turned red as a beet to have such things brought up in front of Sansa’s father. It wasn’t that she’d really wanted him to kiss her. It was more that he had rejected her…vehemently and in front of the other kids. Ned had gotten them to ‘kiss and make up’ for lack of a better term and the rest of the summer passed without any more drama between them…even if they really didn’t interact all that much.

 

It was when Jon had come to visit the Starks with Robb over winter break after Sansa’s eighteenth birthday that he had to reevaluate what he thought of Sansa Stark. He had been floored by the changes in the skinny, little red-haired girl. She was tall, as tall as him really with legs that went on for days. Her red hair was no longer kept in braids and ponytails all the time either. It was long, hanging down practically to her curvaceous ass. And, it was all bouncy and shiny and smelled like a garden or something. Her blue eyes were bright and friendly now and her pouty lips were soft and pink. She had…um… _matured_ in all the right ways and she acted more mature, too. More mature than Theon for certain who was five years older than her. And, the angry 10-year-old was nowhere in evidence as she laughed and talked with him and laid her head on his shoulder after too much eggnog on Christmas Eve while the family watched a movie.

Jon had crushed on her for the next three years after that visit before he finally asked her out, deciding it would be worth the risk of Robb beating the shit out of him. He didn’t realize that she’d been nursing her own crush on him…since she was ten, right before he had rejected her at the kissing games and that the crush had returned once she stopped hating him and continued for all the years between then and now.

 

Fast forward a few more years and much had changed in the intervening fifteen years between that summer at the lake and the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Jon Snow. But, now Jon was puzzled because he had apparently done something wrong…really wrong. And he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. He had been sitting at the kitchen counter drinking his coffee that morning when she had stalked by without even a ‘hello.’ As she walked around the kitchen huffing and slamming drawers and giving exasperated sighs, Jon read the paper and tried to ignore that pricking sensation in his chest.  She had avoided his touch and his eyes all morning. She had not spoken more than three words to him before slamming the front door in a huff as she headed to work. In fact, the only thing he could recall her saying was ‘No, nothing!’ in an extremely irritated voice when he’d finally asked if anything were wrong. He sat there after she’d left thinking over the night before and trying to remember what he might have done.

_We invited the guys over to watch the match. It was her suggestion so I think I’m okay there. She made those nacho bite things and wings. I told her how great they were…check. I cleaned up the kitchen after everyone left…check. We had sex…really hot sex…okay, coming up blank on what could’ve been wrong there. Let’s see…we started with her on top and after she came twice…check, I got behind her and…fuck, I’m getting hard just thinking about this. But what did I do? I don’t think I did anything wrong then. Okay…after really hot sex, we went to sleep. We talked a little first…um…I was tired. I don’t remember what we talked about…probably nothing important. Maybe she just woke up cranky. She’ll probably be in a better mood later._

So, Jon had headed off to work and told himself everything would be fine later. The first indication that he was mistaken probably should’ve been when he received no midday text. She always texted during her lunch break and he’d always respond. Just little messages of ‘I love you’ or ‘I miss you’ or ‘my day’s going well’ or ‘my day sucks’ or ‘I want to fuck you on the kitchen counter when I get home’…okay, it was usually Jon that sent those kinds of texts.

Jon realized around 3PM that he’d never received a text so he decided to send his own.  He thought it over for several minutes before he came up with what he thought was a winning, sweet opening to a text conversation.

_Hey, Sexy Girl. How’s it going?_

Nothing…10 minutes later…nothing…one hour later…nothing.

 _Maybe her phone died and she forgot her charger_.

Still, having been in the doghouse a time or two with Sansa before, Jon decided it might not be a bad idea to stop by the florist shop on the way home and pick up some flowers. _Couldn’t hurt_ … He usually got home before her but the extra stop ran him behind and as he walked in the apartment he discovered that he was indeed in the doghouse. Actually, it was more like he had been left outside the building with a sign that said, ‘free to good home.’

She was on her laptop at the table and didn’t even look up at him. He called out a greeting anxiously and she said a cool ‘hello.’ He laid the flowers on the table in front of her. She glanced at them for a moment and her brow creased with annoyance before she got up and put them in a vase with some water.

“Thank you,” she said. He had never heard those two words sound quite so _chilly_.

“Alright…what did I do?”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“No! Obviously, I don’t know, Sansa. Would I be asking if I knew?”

She looked him with a glance that nearly froze his balls off. She closed her laptop and stood up to her full height, stepping right into his face.

“Well, maybe I’ll just let you figure it out,” she said icily. Then, in a more neutral tone, “Sam is coming over to look at your laptop. I’m taking a shower.”

“Uh…okay. Sansa…why can’t you just tell me?”

She didn’t say a word. She just walked into their bedroom and closed the door. He sat down heavily on the couch and ran his hands through his hair.

 

An hour later, Sam was over to take a look at the laptop that had been acting up lately.

“So, what did you do?” Sam asked after he’d been there about 20 minutes.

“What?! How do you know I’m in trouble? She’s been in the bedroom the entire time you’ve been here.”

“I could tell by the tone of her voice on the phone when I called. The way she said your name…I swear Jon, Sansa could grow icicles in hell when she’s pissed. You must’ve done something.”

“I have no idea what, Sam. Hey…maybe you could talk to her. She likes you. Maybe she’ll tell you.”

“She’s married to you! If she won’t tell you, why would she tell me?”

Just then the bedroom door opened and Sansa came into the living room, smiling at Sam and ignoring Jon.

“Why are you mad at Jon, Sansa?” Sam asked. Jon smacked his arm and Sansa snorted with annoyance.

“Put your friend up to asking, did you?”

“No! Yes! Shit! Sansa, I don’t know what I did. Can you please just tell me?” He waited for a response…nothing. “If you won't tell me, can you at least let me try and make it up to you? What can I do to make it better, sweetheart? I…I’ll watch one of those Jane Austen movies you like with you…I could go shopping with you…I’ll follow you around the mall and tell you you’re beautiful and carry your shopping bags.” He caught a hint of a smile there before she quickly suppressed it. “I’ll write you a poem if I have to though I’m not a bleeding poet.”

“Well, that’s certainly true,” Sam interjected.

“I’ll make you your favorite dinner…well, I’ll call in your favorite dinner from your favorite restaurant.”

“That’s probably safer,” Sam said with a stage whisper towards Sansa. Jon shot his friend a scowl. “What? It’s true. I’ve tasted your cooking.”

Sansa was smirking now.

“I’ll clean the apartment for a week…for a month…come on! That’s an excellent offer.”

“Not really,” Sam said. “You never were much for housework when we lived together, Jon. You destroyed two vacuum cleaners and clogged the sink regularly as I recall.”

“Are you quite done ‘helping’ me, Sam? And, I do clean up here quite a bit…”

“Well…Sansa probably has to go behind you to fix what you’ve ‘cleaned.’ I always did.”

Sansa started laughing then. Jon looked over at his wife and decided he might finally catch a break.

“Please, sweetheart. Tell me what stupid thing I did or said and I’ll try and make it up to you.”

She rolled her eyes but moved a bit closer before she said, “I’m probably being stupid anyway.”

“No! You could never be stupid, Sansa” he said quickly.

“Well, last night...after we, um…” she said as she blushed looking over towards Sam.

“Okay…last night after…”

“We were talking.”

 _Shit! It was something I said while I was falling asleep! Why does she want to talk then? I’m always delirious then_.. “Okay, sweetheart…what did I do?”

“We were talking about names…for when we decide we’re ready to…you know, start a family.”

 _Oh, yeah. We did talk about kids a bit…okay, I still got nothing_. “Um…I remember that. I was awfully tired though so if I said something stupid…”

“It was just the name you suggested…for a daughter.” She looked at him as though this would explain everything.

 _That really doesn’t explain anything_. “Um…I honestly don’t remember, Sansa.”

“Jeyne…you suggested Jeyne as a name for our daughter,” she said with her hands on her hips now and that look of misuse on her face like when she was 10.

“Okay…uh…still not seeing why that…”

“JEYNE! The name of the first girl you kissed! You kissed Jeyne Westerling at the pool house that night at the lake…when you were thirteen! When you humiliated me and refused to kiss me after you kissed Jeyne Westerling.”

“Oh…wow, Sansa. I honestly didn’t even remember that it was Jeyne I kissed that night, sweetheart. I’m sorry though and we definitely won’t name any daughter of ours that.”

Sansa had seemed rather appeased that he didn’t remember kissing Jeyne and by his promise to strike that name off the hypothetical baby name list. A wiser man might have kissed his wife and let the matter drop then…but Jon sometimes had his less than brilliant moments.

“But…you know, Jeyne wasn’t the first girl I kissed.” Sansa eyes widened and Sam started shaking his head. “I’d already kissed a couple of girls by then actually.”

Sansa's eyes narrowed now as she spun on her heel.  Her long red hair swished across Jon’s face before she stalked off to their bedroom and slammed the door.

“Wow…what did you just do?” Sam asked before patting him on the shoulder and heading out.


End file.
